


Past and Future

by vailkagami



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: M/M, non-consensual telepathy, this is a tagging nightmare
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-07
Updated: 2013-10-07
Packaged: 2017-12-28 18:14:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/994990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vailkagami/pseuds/vailkagami
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>During a mission concerning a potentially hostile alien race, a transporter malfunction delivers the wrong McCoy to the Enterprise. If it actually is McCoy. Kirk and Spock are not convinced, but they are determined to find out what is really going on. (Set in the AOS universe.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Past and Future

**Author's Note:**

> While this story is taking place in the universe of the reboot, it focuses mostly on the characters from the original universe.
> 
> Betaed by [sff-reader](http://sff-reader.livejournal.com/).

When a signal told him of Spock’s return, Jim Kirk left the interrogation room without any further word, leaving the prisoner behind with the guards. Theoretically, the men from security were not necessary – there was no way the man was going to be able to escape. But Kirk would not let him go unwatched for a second as long as they didn’t know who he was and what had happened to Bones.

Spock waited outside, standing stiff and straight as ever, with his hands joined behind his back and his eyes on the man in the room. Only when Kirk stood before him did he turn his attention away from the window and to his captain.

“Engineering reports that there has indeed been a malfunction during the process of transporting Doctor McCoy. It was, however, minor and should not have caused any consequences except a small delay in his arrival.”

Kirk pressed his lips together. ‘Transporter malfunction’ and ‘Doctor McCoy’ were not words he liked to hear in the same context. “Is there any chance the Nelorians are responsible for it?”

“That is entirely possible,” Spock confirmed. “It will require further research to figure out how they affected our transporter and managed to exchange the person being transported.”

“Then research. Help Scotty. But not yet,” Kirk hastened to add when the Vulcan turned away to leave. “There might be a quicker way to get that information. I mean, he has to know, right?”

“Presumably so,” Spock agreed. “However, he does not give the impression of being very forthcoming.”

“No, but he knows anyway. You could meld with him and find out if he’s lying or not.”

Spock hesitated. Kirk knew his Vulcan friend didn’t like the idea. In all the years they knew each other, he had rarely ever used this Vulcan technique, and if he did, it had always been under very special circumstances and with the aim to help or as a means of communication. The captain understood that this was a very private matter for Vulcans, but for once he did not feel like being culturally considerate.

“It’s for Bones,” he urged. “I know the two of you are not the best of friends, but even you should have an interest in getting him back in one piece. They could be doing who knows what to him while we’re trying to get this one to talk!”

Spock tilted his head. “While I am not as close to the doctor as you are, I do respect his skills as a surgeon and acknowledge that this ship’s efficiency would suffer from his loss. I will do as you ask me should the need occur.”

“If he’s speaking the truth, he should welcome the opportunity to confirm his identity,” Kirk mused before returning to the cell with Spock in tow.

The man the transporter had delivered to them in place of Bones leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms, a stubborn line around his mouth. He was a good bit shorter than Kirk and Spock and of slight build, but obviously refused to be intimidated by them or the two tall and compact security men guarding him. Instead, he scowled at Kirk. Then his eyes fell on the Vulcan and an eyebrow went up in a manner that actually did remind Kirk of his doctor.

“You are supposed to be Spock, then?”

“Indeed I am,” Spock said evenly. “And you claim to be Leonard McCoy.”

“I don’t claim to be anything. I am.”

“I must say, you do not look at all like Doctor McCoy.”

“Yeah? I can live with that, because you don’t look like Spock either, and he” – he gestured to the captain – “doesn’t look anything like Jim Kirk.” The prisoner met their gazes with a kind of defensive aggression, an impatient annoyance that once again reminded Kirk of Bones. The similarity, however, only made him want to punch this stranger in the face.

 

He had displayed this behaviour ever since Kirk had accused him of being a spy and had the guards arrest him. Before, just after beaming over, he had looked only confused and vaguely worried.

It would have been a convincing performance, had it not been so absurd. Kirk had no idea at all why the Nelorians insisted on playing this game. Exchanging Bones with someone else and hoping they wouldn’t notice was bold enough, but to pick someone who did not look like Bones at all and never even tried to blend in, instead accusing them of being the wrong ones seemed to defy all logic.

Unless the Nelorians wanted to confuse them. If they were stalling for time, Kirk had to admit that they were doing a good job: interrogating this man who so determinedly insisted on being McCoy and claimed not to know how he got here or what happened to the real McCoy had cost them precious time and led them nowhere.

So far.

“Would you mind telling us in which aspects we differ from what you expected us to be?” Spock asked calmly. Kirk felt like shaking him. He couldn’t understand how Spock could waste time like this when somewhere Bones might be suffering.

“Well, you do sound like Spock,” ‘McCoy’ admitted. “Except not really. Something’s not quite right in the way you speak and move. You’re not thin enough.” He turned to Kirk. “And you’re much too tall, and your eyes have the wrong colour.”

“Funny, so do yours,” Kirk said sarcastically. After a second, he added, “Also, you’re too small.”

The prisoner rolled his eyes.

“I cannot fail to notice that he gives an impression of being entirely convinced of what he says being true,” Spock said, turning to Kirk.

“He does, doesn’t he?” The stranger glared at them. “He’s also sitting right in front of you, so you shouldn’t speak of him as if he weren’t there.”

Kirk turned to him. “There is a very simple way to confirm your identity. Spock is a telepath, but I guess you already know that. If you will allow him to read your mind, he will know if you’re telling the truth, and we can let you out of here.”

Since he was convinced the man was lying to them, Kirk had not expected him to be especially fond of the idea. In fact, he expected excuses why it was not possible or at least shouldn’t be done. He did not expect him to jump out of his chair and retreat a few steps back.

“No way in hell!”

The captain and his first officer exchanged a look.

“You’re keeping something from us, then,” Kirk concluded triumphantly. To his surprise, the prisoner did jot even try to deny it.

“Of course I am! There are plenty of things I don’t want you, or anyone, to know. My identity is not one of those, though.”

“Oh, right.” Now it was Kirk’s turn to cross his arms and become sarcastic. “That’s just totally believable.”

“It’s not? So you enjoy having someone violate your privacy like that? Or do you just never keep anything private? If you’re indeed Jim Kirk, that might just happen to be the truth.”

“It is the only way we have of determining if you are lying or not,” Spock said. “If you do not consent to it, we will have to keep you in this cell.”

“I’ll stay here, then.” The stranger took another step back, his eyes never leaving their faces, as if he expected them to jump him any moment. He looked defensive and suspicious, but there was real fear in it that he tried to hide. Kirk could see it, in the blue eyes that were so impossible to connect to the name Leonard McCoy. There was something this man really, really didn’t want them to find out.

Something that was most likely related to his plans here and the whereabouts of Bones.

“You seem to forget that if we don’t know who you are, we have to assume that you are not Leonard McCoy, and that you know what happened to the real one. So this is not actually an option. If you won’t tell us, Spock will take it from your mind.”

The other man went pale. “I did tell you all I know. Reading my mind will give you nothing else.”

“Then you have nothing to fear,” Kirk reminded him with a smile that very nearly turned into a snarl. If he found out that they had hurt Bones in any way, this guy was not going to have a very nice time on board of the Enterprise.

“Now I know that you are not who you claim to be, because if you really believe that you can’t have a single working cell in your brain,” the smaller man exploded. “Not to mention that your accusation was stupid to begin with – or did you really think people as smart as those operating the Nelor would think you could be fooled by someone whose only similarity with your doctor was the name? Did you ever even consider another possibility?”

They had. They had seen the lack of logic. But in the end, while the motivation remained unclear, the Nelorians were their best bet. And this man was the only connection to Bones’ disappearance they had. If he spoke the truth, if he didn’t know what had happened, they might have no chance of ever finding out what had happened to their McCoy.

And in the end it was, despite everything, still the most likely possibility. After all it was very unlikely that their transporter just happened to have grabbed a random person with no connection to all this, who by coincidence had the same name as Bones, the same occupation and friends called Kirk and Spock.

“We never mentioned that the Nelorians were named after their ship,” Kirk pointed out. “Interesting you would know that.”

“Not at all, considering I just was on that ship.” Briefly, the man pressed his lips into a thin line as his face became grim. “Except it might not have been the exact same ship, just like this isn’t the exact same Enterprise I wanted to return to. I rather think…”

“I rather think you wanted to confuse us, and congratulations: You managed to do just that,” Kirk interrupted him. “But that stops now. We’ve wasted enough time with asking nicely.” He nodded at Spock, who to his credit didn’t hesitate to come closer. Cultural sensibilities aside, he understood how important this was. Kirk had expected nothing less.

There was something wild in the prisoner’s eyes now, something that resembled panic – except it wasn’t mindless. The way the man’s gaze was flying between them, the guards, the door told Kirk that he was trying to find a way out, but he never made a run for it, well aware that even if by some kind of miracle he should make it out of the room, there was nowhere to run.

Yet it was very, very obvious that he did not want anyone to look into his thoughts. Kirk’s heart went faster when the two guards took hold of the man, causing him to make an attempt to tear away after all. Soon they would know what had happened to his doctor.

If the men and women on the Nelor had so much as thought about harming him, they would soon wish they had never entered Federation space. And their prisoner would be the first to regret it.

With two steps, Spock was standing right before the stranger, and without further delay he raised his hand to press his fingers against the other’s white face.

Seconds passed in silence while neither of them moved, then Spock put the fingers of his other hand to the face of the man who kept staring at him with wide eyes that seemed to see nothing else. After a minute, the man whimpered. – under different circumstances, the sound would have filled the captain with pity.

Eventually, Spock pulled his hands away and took a step back. Immediately, the prisoner’s legs gave out and he would have sunken to the floor if not for the two guards holding him up. He was still staring ahead unblinkingly, looking dazed.

During the meld, Spock’s back had been to Kirk. Now he had stepped away and the captain saw his face, he noticed that Spock, too, was pale, with fine sweat standing on his forehead. He took another step back and sat down on the chair the prisoner had previously vacated.

“Take him back to his cell,” the Vulcan ordered. The guards looked at Kirk, who frowned at the unexpected order, but nodded to confirm it anyway. The man didn’t look like he would be of any more use at the moment.

So the men in red escorted the prisoner away while at the same time supporting most of his weight, leaving Kirk and Spock alone in the interrogation room.

“What did you learn?” Kirk asked, eager to get his answers. But Spock only lifted one hand, asking in a wordless gesture for a moment to gather his thoughts and his ability to speak.

Finally, Kirk could no longer contain his impatience. “Where is McCoy? Does he know?”

Spock shook his head. “For all he knows, he is McCoy.” His voice was a little breathless. “He is entirely convinced of this being the truth. I took into account the possibility that the Nelorians or whoever else might have sent him have manipulated his thoughts and looked deeper, but all I found were more memories of a life similar to, but not identical with that of Doctor McCoy, in the company of men similar to but not identical with us.” He took a deep breath, collected his thoughts while Kirk tried to work through this information and the disappointment it brought, the lack of hope. “It was exhausting and painful for both of us. There is no point in trying again.”

“But he has to know something.” Kirk was aware he sounded pathetic. He didn’t care. “He was so scared of the telepathic contact – they must have programmed him to feel that way, just so we wouldn’t dig too deep and uncover who, and what, he really is.” He was grasping for straws, and he knew it.

“All I found as cause for his fear was a deep sense of privacy and a trauma caused by a previous violation of his mind,” Spock explained. “A trauma that was renewed by my action.”

Kirk couldn’t care less about the stranger’s mental health. “But are you sure it’s not hiding something else?”

“No. Telepathic manipulation can go very deep. But we should also consider that he might simply be who he thinks he is.”

“Well, he is not.” Kirk couldn’t believe he had to remind Spock of this. “I don’t know about you, but to me it’s very obvious that he is not Leonard McCoy. Bones is. So the question remains who he is and where he came from.”

“Obviously, he has also thought about what might have happened and come up with a possible explanation.”

“Oh, really now? Then why didn’t he mention it?”

“He tried. You interrupted him.” There was no accusation on Spock’s face, or any emotion for that matter. Kirk felt attacked anyway. Crossing his arms, he waited for Spock to continue.

“He believes this might he a different universe from the one he comes from. The fact that no one looks like the people he knows made him discard the possibility at first, but he has come to the conclusion that if the personalities change, the genetics might as well. He has travelled to another universe before, also due to a transporter accident.”

“How convenient,” Kirk mumbled. Then he asked, “Do you believe that?”

“He does.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

Spock thought for a moment. His posture had straightened a little, as he was recovering from the after-effects of the meld. “I believe it is possible. But while he appears to harbour no ill intent towards us, it would be risky to rely on it and let him go unguarded.”

Kirk hadn’t even thought about the prisoner’s situation, least about letting him go – all he cared about was Bones and that they were not any closer to finding him than before. The frustration was hard to suppress, and it was hard to refrain from letting it out on someone. He didn’t, because he was the captain, and a captain did not do something like that.

“We’ll keep him locked up,” he decided. “Damn! There has to be a way to decide if this is all a trick or not.” He hoped it was a trick, because if it was not… “What do you think happened to our McCoy if he really comes from another universe?”

“I would think he got to the other universe in place of this one. It appears to be what happened last time, so that happened at all. If this is the case, you need not worry: according to this man’s memories, the Enterprise crew of his universe is generally benevolent, so no harm will come to our doctor.”

Unless there was another Jim Kirk who was as desperate to get his McCoy back as this one was, someone who didn’t consider the possibility of him speaking the truth…

Someone who depended on this Kirk not doing anything rash if he wanted to get his friend back in one piece, just like this Kirk depended on him…

“We’ll leave as soon as possible.” The words were hard to bring out – there were enough ships guarding the Nelor, but he felt that by leaving it, they were giving up on Bones. “At warp six, New Vulcan is only half a day from here. I’ll contact the ambassador and ask him to meet us. He’s from the future – an alternative future. Perhaps he knows more about parallel universes. If nothing else, he might be able to confirm if what this guy says is possible or not.” And if it was, he might have an idea how they might get Bones back.

If that was at all possible. After all, the old Vulcan had never returned to the world he came from.

 

-

 

The Enterprise left almost immediately after their conversation. Spock retreated to his quarters for an hour to ease the uncomfortable feelings left by the mind meld through meditation and the soothing effect of an herbal tea from Earth his mother had introduced him to when he was a child.

In the other universe, so it really existed, his mother was still alive. The other McCoy had met her, and she hadn’t looked like his mother at all, but she had been what he could well imagine his mother to be had she ever reached that age, and lived that life.

A part of Spock, he found, was all too willing to believe it was true. It seemed too absurd to make up, showed too much insight into things the Nelorians could not know, and most of all Spock found an odd consolation for a pain that had never quite faded even after all these years in the thought that somewhere, in another world, his mother still lived.

At the same time it made him suspicious. It unsettled him, and that might well have been exactly the intention of the enemy.

The journey to New Vulcan would take another nine hours. Spock left his room after having recovered sufficiently and made his way to the security section, where their prisoner was waiting in his cell.

The energy field blocking the door was set to one sided transparency, so they could see the prisoner but the prisoner could not see them. He did not appear to be very interested in his surroundings when Spock arrived: sitting on the floor beside the narrow bed, he had his arms wrapped around his knees and let his head hang low, staring down. He did not move and did not blink.

In his attempt to uncover a possible manipulation of the man’s mind, Spock had been forced to go very deep, and he knew that he had caused the prisoner considerable discomfort. He had also learned that the man (he still found himself unable to refer to him as McCoy) did not appreciate this invasion of his privacy, but if the feeling was genuine or programmed he could not tell.

The Vulcan was not sure why he had come; the sight of the stranger cowering on the flood offered no insight into his own conflicted mind. He knew more about this man than any other living being, had uncovered secrets the human had refused to deal with or even acknowledge as existing previous to his invasion, and yet he could not tell if anything he knew was true, not could he tell if he wanted it to be.

They did not know the Nelorians and what they were capable of, but for a simple manipulation, the memories Spock had seen in the other’s mind were incredibly detailed. There were no empty spots, no contradictions. Just the impressions left by a lifetime of experience, passion, pain. Pain he had dragged to the surface and shared, and then let go of when it was over. This man had feared him, and had given him a believable explanation why. It might be true, but if it was not, what was it that Spock had failed to find?

If his older self was unable to help, he would have to try again. It was not a prospect he was comfortable with.

In the cell, the prisoner’s lips moved. “Don’t leave me here,” he whispered, perhaps addressed at some deity, someone not present, or merely the empty room. Only because of his superior Vulcan hearing was Spock able to make out anything at all. The two guards positioned just outside the cell remained oblivious the prisoner had spoken at all, and since the words had no meaning, Spock did not mention them.

Nothing here had a meaning. His coming here had no meaning. Dissatisfied and slightly unsettled, the Vulcan left.

 

-

 

Ambassador Spock had agreed to meet them at the spaceport of New Vulcan. He would be there when they arrived.

The communication had been brief; Kirk had been unable to tell the old Vulcan more than that they needed his expertise, but he knew he could trust his strange friend to recognize the urgency of his request.

Half an hour before they arrived, Kirk went to wake their prisoner and get him to the transporter room. He didn’t want to waste any more time.

Until now, the captain had avoided the going to the see the man again, believing Spock when he said he had nothing more to tell them. He had spend the night awake, too busy imagining all the horrible things his McCoy might be going through right now to find any rest.

When he entered the cell, he found the other McCoy still asleep, thought it couldn’t have been a very restful night. The prisoner was lying on the floor, his face pale and clam, his legs sprawled as if he had been kicking at something unseen. While the room was clean, Kirk didn’t miss the faint smell of vomit.

The prisoner woke at once when Kirk touched him, blinking in the bright light and rolling over to get to his knees and then to his feet. His movements looked uncoordinated and clumsy. Other than that he didn’t show any reaction to Kirk’s presence, didn’t even look at him. There was no resemblance at all to Bones, who would never have been this passive and meek.

The captain ordered the guards to get the prisoner ready for departure. “We will meet with an acquaintance of ours who might be able to help both us and you,” he told the stranger. “If you’ve been telling the truth, maybe he can help you get home.”

“Oh?” the man muttered, without looking up. “I thought you’d already decided that everything in my mind is false.”

“Mr. Spock assured me that you have no malevolent intentions towards us,” Kirk said vaguely. When the other looked up and the captain was met with a cold glare, he began to understand that this McCoy wasn’t meek but seething.

“Yeah?” he hissed. “Then he fails at telepathy, because right now I have downright murderous intentions towards him!”

Kirk had nothing to reply to that. He wasn’t going to apology for doing what he had to do to get Bones back, but from his own point of view the prisoner was well within his right to be pissed.

The captain waited impatiently while the other man got a chance to briefly wash himself and change into a new set of light-grey clothes that were supposed to be neutral but in fact marked anyone wearing them as suspicious: guests they liked got other colours.

Somehow, it seemed inappropriate to let a guy they suspected of being an enemy run around in a Starfleet uniform – even his own, somewhat odd looking one.

By the tine they finally arrived in the transporter room, the ship had already reached New Vulcan. The planet was frequently visited by all sorts of ships these days, and since Kirk had not made it an official military matter, minutes passed before they got permission to beam down. Long minutes, though probably not as long as Kirk thought they were.

Spock had awaited them on the transporter platform. He acknowledged Kirk’s presence with a brief nod but ignored the prisoner, and the prisoner in turn appeared happy to pretend the Vulcan didn’t exist. They all took their positions on the platform and got beamed down to the spaceport that was swarming with people. Had Kirk not known that the other McCoy at least believed to be one of the good guys and would therefore not try to kill anyone, he would have chosen a different approach, with more phasers and fewer civilians. But despite the prisoner obviously not liking them very much, he appeared to be harmless enough. Kirk just hoped he wasn’t some kind of timed bomb, programmed to go off under special circumstances…

At least they were still in a part of the port reserved for military matters, which might have been the reason why so few of the men and women in colourful uniforms passing by actually paid attention to the two armed guards guarding a man who in his colourless outfit stuck out like a sore thumb.

Spock – the old Spock – would meet them in the great hall. Kirk hoped he was already there, that they didn’t have to waste more time waiting. Sure enough, when they entered the hall, he soon spotted the white hair and the robes of the old ambassador. Spock was standing at the edge of a small crowd, studying the screen above for information where the men from the Enterprise had beamed down to. Before he could become aware of their presence, someone else became aware of his.

“Spock!” the prisoner walking beside Kirk suddenly called and started running towards the Vulcan, only seconds after they had entered the hall.

Startled, Spock turned to the direction of the voice. Things happened too fast for Kirk to take in all the details, but later he would think he remembered all colour draining from the ambassador’s face. His own instinct was to run after the fake McCoy, while beside him the guards raised their weapons, wasting only the initial second of surprise. At the same time, the old Vulcan started moving, much faster than Kirk had expected from a man of that age. He only managed a few steps before the prisoner reached him, and if that man had intended to harm the ambassador in any way, he would have, because in their surprise and with the people passing between them and the escaping man, the guards as well as Kirk himself and Spock the Younger completely failed to protect him.

Altogether not even five seconds passed until the two men met in the middle of the passing crowd. Instead of attacking the old man, the prisoner threw himself at him in a wild, almost desperate embrace. Spock wrapped his arms around him in return and even lifted him off the floor a fraction to whirl him around, so his own body was between the prisoner and the guards with their weapons.

‘He’s shielding him,’ Kirk thought, stunned and not quite getting what was going on.

He swiftly walked over to them, everyone else on his heels. The ambassador and the prisoner still stood in a close embrace, but Spock was looking at Kirk and his younger self, his eyes serious and his expression closed. The man in his arms moved back a bit, and when he looked at Spock, Kirk saw shock and confusion on his face, as if he just saw the man he was holding on to for the first time. Yet he did not move further away.

“My guess is, Doctor McCoy’s presence here is related to the reason why you wished to see me,” Spock said, his voice oddly cold.

Kirk nodded. “You know him.” It had been meant as a question, but came out as a statement, as it was quite obvious that it was true.

“Indeed I do. You will not require use of your weapons. Therefore, I suggest you put them away.”

After a second of hesitation, Kirk gestured for the men from security to do so. Reluctantly, he also moved his hand away from his own phaser.

“He thinks he’s from a parallel universe,” he explained, and Spock nodded.

“He is. It is the same parallel universe I came from.” It shouldn’t have been that surprising, but somehow, it was. Kirk had never thought Spock might be from a universe that different – he’d always thought he was just from the future, even if it was a future that could never be. Sure, he didn’t look a lot like his Spock, but that fact Kirk had always contributed to more than a century and a half of age difference.

“How do you know that?” This was the younger Spock speaking, from somewhere behind Kirk and the others. His older self only glanced at him briefly.

“I know.”

It wasn’t a helpful reply, but Kirk wasn’t really interested in the answer to that particular question at the moment. “He appeared when we beamed over our Doctor McCoy. Do you know what happened to him?”

“They exchanged places,” Spock said. “Your friend is safe. Do not worry. I will find a way to bring him back.”

It sounded so sincere – more like a fact than a promise – Kirk had to believe him. He relaxed just a little, though a lot of the tension remained.

“Commander Spock will help you work on it. He knows -”

“It is not necessary. I can do it on my own.”

Kirk frowned, startled. This interruption had been the rudest behaviour he had ever witnessed with this Spock, but the old Vulcan didn’t even seem to notice. In fact, despite looking at Kirk, his attention seemed to be taken entirely by the man he still held against him. If it truly was one of his friends from his own universe, that was understandable after so many years. But Kirk had a friend he would have liked to be reunited with in this century, and he didn’t like being dismissed like this.

“Spock?” McCoy (as that was who Kirk had to accept he was) spoke before the captain could say anything, demanding the Vulcan’s attention by touching his face, lightly, in a way the younger one would never suffer from anyone but Uhura. The old one didn’t even blink, just turned his face to his friend, and they both seemed happy to forget anyone else was present. “My God,” McCoy said, still wearing that look of shock on his face. “What happened to you?”

“I grew old, Leonard,” Spock replied, his voice soft. He reached up to touch the other’s cheek, gently, with the tips of his fingers. “It is nothing you need to worry about.”

“But you –”

“I have been here for many years. And I have crossed into this universe and through time many years in your future. When you return, you will find me unchanged.”

McCoy looked doubtful and not much less shaken than he had a minute before, and Kirk decided it was time to remind them of the rest of the world.

“How can you be so sure he will return at all?”

“Because I remember,” Spock told them. “Long ago, a transporter malfunction had beamed the doctor to another universe and send us his counterpart in return. And we managed to get everyone back where they belonged in the end.”

 

-

 

Naturally, it was not quite that simple. ‘The end’ Spock remembered was still days ahead in their future and quite unreachable unless he succeeded in figuring out the slight anomaly responsible for this accident.

At the same time his younger self in the other universe was doing the same thing: trying desperately to find a way to get back their doctor while simultaneously attempting to learn as much as possible about the other universe from the strange McCoy that did not look like McCoy at all.

Now Spock had it easier than the man he’d been. He knew all about the other universe and did not need to waste thoughts on it. He knew he would succeed and that Leonard was safe so there was no reason to worry. And other than back then he did not need to protect his reputation by pretending not to care.

At the same time, other things became a factor that had not bothered him before, Spock thought as he returned to the living room of his house where Leonard was sitting on the couch, waiting tensely and eager for answers. Spock had been surprised the doctor had refrained from following him around as he moved to the kitchen, asking questions and demanding explanations. But Leonard looked tired, lacking his usual energy. When they had embraced on the space port, Spock had felt his exhaustion.

Now he felt nothing but familiarity at the sight of the smaller, slim, blue-eyed man.

“So,” Leonard said, barely acknowledging the tea Spock placed on the table before him. “What happened to you?”

Spock did not reply. He sat down beside Leonard and with a hand at the back of his neck pulled him close for a kiss. When their lips met, he sensed the exhaustion again, and confusion and shock. Realisation followed a second later – too late. He let go and calmly gazed into the human’s wide eyes, finally understanding why he sensed nothing beyond the most basic level.

“My apologies,” he said. “I admit that it is quite overwhelming to see you again after so long a time. I seem to have failed to remember correctly the point in my life at which this incident occurred.”

“You… what?” Leonard kept staring at him. “Spock, you… wait. Are you indicating that at a later point you kissing me would have made sone sort of sense?”

“When we met earlier, you instantly recognized me,” Spock reminded him.

“Yeah. So?”

“Look at me, Leonard… Doctor McCoy,” the Vulcan said patiently. “I have aged well beyond the point of instantaneous recognition.” To empathise his point, he look hold of the other’s hand and placed it against his own cheek. “You recognized me because of the bond between us.”

“A bond? You mean, like between your parents? Between us?” There was a hint of horror in Leonard’s voice now; yet he also seemed intrigued. It did not surprise Spock. Their relationship, back then, had not developed out of nowhere.

“Yes.”

“There is no bond between us at my time. Never mind the future. It doesn’t make any sense.”

“There will be – and there already is.” When Spock had finally created the connection so long ago, it had formed surprisingly easily, despite Leonard’s doubt and hesitation. He had always suspected that a rudimentary bond had formed long before without either of them noticing, and now he had proof.

Now he also knew, or at least he was able of making a strong guess, how it had happened that their constant yet ever growing closeness had finally crossed the line into a committed physical relationship that would last for the rest of Leonard’s life. Neither of them had been willing to make the first step, each fearing rejection and the resulting disturbance of their friendship. That in the end it had been the doctor who had eventually invited Spock for a casual dinner in the course of which he had, shyly and nervously, revealed his feelings had been unexpected. How he had found the courage to do so the Vulcan had never been allowed to learn, not even in the years they shared a full mental bond. Now he believed he had found the answer.

“It was a mistake to mention any of this at all,” he said. “Any intervention with the timeline has to be avoided.” Except that every intervention already was part of the timeline. But Spock had never learned the details of what had happened to McCoy in the other universe. He did not know what he could do and say, what he had to do and say, and what needed to remain unsaid. It was a small consolation that in theory he needn’t worry as no matter what he did, it was history already, when history was so very fragile. He needed to be careful.

Yet, standing from the couch to move away from his friend who could not know too much and would be uncomfortable with the intimacy he did not yet share with the Vulcan required nearly more will than Spock could summon at that moment. It had been too long; he became aware of the loneliness and the longing stronger than in a long time now he was with the one whose absence he had been suffering for so many years.

Unexpectedly, cool fingers wrapped around his as he stood, holding him back and pulling him down again. Spock let himself be pulled, not knowing what to expect. He did not expect Leonard to kiss him, chastely and shyly on the lips, but it did not surprise him either.

Afterwards, the human leaned back and drew up a knee, wrapping his arms around it as if he were cold. “Tell me what happened,” he said.

So Spock told him.

 

-

 

He left out many things. Leonard did not need to know about details of Spock’s future or the fate that awaited the Romulans, tempting though it was to change that future – or, from Spock’s point of view, that past.

Spock told, vaguely, of the black hole that brought him to this place and time, and of how he shared Leonard’s theory that the changes that distinguished this universe from theirs occurred so long ago that in some cases the people here had little more in common with their counterparts than the name due to a slightly different ancestry. Leonard listened without saying much in return. Occasionally, he shivered though the temperature was above the average temperature on the Enterprise.

“You are tired,” Spock observed. “Rest. I will work on your return home while you sleep.” He stood to show Leonard to the bedroom, but the human would not move and only shook his head.

“I don’t feel like sleeping.”

“To refuse sleep when it is needed and the opportunity exists is not logical.”

Leonard snorted softly. “Isn’t it? Damn good I have you to tell me that.” But still he did not move. “My last night was pretty lousy, and I don’t think the next one is going to be much better. I’d rather just have a coffee.”

“Is something the matter?” Spock asked, immediately feeling concerned. Leonard was disturbed and distressed – Spock had sensed it whenever they touched, but had attributed the emotions to the general situation and to seeing him at this very advanced age. Perhaps he had been mistaken.

“No. I had a few bad dreams, ‘s all.” Leonard waved him off, then raked a hand through his hair in a strangely nervous gesture. In a second, Spock was sitting beside him again, taking hold of his shoulders.

“Something happened. Tell me.”

“Nothing happened,” the doctor insisted, sounding annoyed as he attempted to move away. “Your other self just got a little over-exited while looking for answers in my head when they still thought I was evil.” He shrugged it off, indicating it was not something that deserved further mention. But Spock had been there after another counterpart of his had done the same, had witnessed, without yet understanding, the long weeks of nightmares and paranoia that followed until the wound in Leonard’s mind eventually healed. It had been many years before Spock learned about the cause.

His arms circled around the human as he pulled him against his chest, holding him close. It was fortunate that the younger Spock had left with Kirk hours ago as the confrontation that would have occurred had he been here this moment would not have been beneficial to the situation.

“It’s okay, Spock,” Leonard muttered, his body stiff in Spock’s arms; not yet knowing him like this. “You don’t need to make a drama out of this. It’ll pass.”

Spock knew better. But now was not the time to discuss this. Instead he offered what help he could, knowing it was up to him, now, to repair as much of the damage as possible. Leonard would not mention this to the Spock of his time upon his return, otherwise the ambassador would have known.

“I can help you sleep,” he said, gently placing his fingers on the side of Leonard’s face without initiating a meld. “If you will trust me.”

“I do,” Leonard said, but his voice was shaking, and he was very tense. “But I really don’t want anyone else poking around in my mind, especially not someone I… anyway, I rather take the nightmares.”

“I do not intend to pry. I will merely sooth your mind so you can sleep undisturbed.”

After a second of hesitation, the human nodded and allowed Spock to lead him to the bedroom. But it was not as simple as the Vulcan had promised. Multiple violations of Leonard’s mind had left their mark and he resisted even the benevolent surface touch with a force he had no control over.

In the end the process was painful and tiring for both of them and left the human emotionally exhausted as long buried memories were brought to the surface. He sobbed quietly in Spock’s arms while the Vulcan saw himself forced to break his promise and reached deep into his mind, knowing he had to sooth it now or it would never heal. In the defence of his young counterpart, that Spock had not known of the forceful intrusions Leonard had suffered before as their own McCoy had, to the best of the ambassador’s knowledge, never experienced the same. Still he found himself filled with a quietly seething anger when finally Leonard fell into a deep, healing sleep.

 

Pushing his own exhaustion aside, Spock stood, feeling each of his years in the weight of his bones. It was time to begin his work.

 

-

 

Jim Kirk returned to the ambassador’s house the next day. The old Vulcan had asked them to leave McCoy with him and give him some time to work on the solution for their problem. While understanding that Spock probably wanted to spend time with his long lost friend and therefore refused any help, it was hard for the captain to contain his impatience. Even with the ambassador’s assurance that Bones was in no danger at all, he needed to see so for himself, and soon.

He wanted him back now, not wait until Spock was done with his reunion.

Kirk wondered if now this connection between their universes had been made, the old man would leave them along with his friend. Despite his current annoyance, he had to admit that he would miss him.

The day before he had accused Spock of keeping this secret from them. After all, he had admitted that he remembered this occurrence from his own past, so he had to have known it would happen in their future. A warning would have been nice. Spock had argued that while he had recognized their McCoy as looking like the man they once accidentally beamed over from the Nelor, he had no way of knowing it was the same man. There were countless parallel universes, and after everyone got back where they belonged, his doctor had apparently never mentioned anything about meeting an older Spock on the other side.

Kirk wondered if by telling them this, Spock had determined it would be so.

The Enterprise was still in orbit waiting for their return, and the Nelorians were still in Federation space waiting to be taken care of. But now Kirk knew they were (probably) not responsible for this mess, he found it hard to concentrate on that particular problem.

The sun had barely climbed over the horizon when he reached the ambassador’s house, his own Spock trailing behind, oddly solemn and not very talkative. Already the air was losing the chill of the night in promise of another long, hot day. The captain hoped he would not disturb anyone in this early hour, but found his worry unnecessary: the ambassador opened the door for them before he had a chance to signal their arrival.

The glance with which they were greeted was icy.

Kirk winced inwardly, but greeted the Vulcan as if he hadn’t noticed. His Spock raised his hand to the Vulcan salute, a gesture which – Kirk could hardly believe it – was not returned.

“Where’s McCoy?” Kirk asked once they were inside and seated in the living room. Of the doctor there was no trace.

“The doctor is still resting.” Spock’s reply was as short as the look he had to spare for them.

“Uh, okay. I guess we’re a little early,” Kirk admitted, to immediately move on to the reason for their visit: “Did you find a solution yet?”

“I did. Knowing what I was looking for, the disturbance in space-time was not hard to unravel. There will be a specific moment during which a replication of the process that caused this will reverse the effect.”

“What? Really?” Despite hoping for it, Kirk had not really expected such quick results. “When will that moment be?”

“In exactly forty point seven three Earth hours.”

Having half risen from the couch before, Kirk now sank back. “Not sooner?”

This time the look the ambassador threw him was longer, though not necessarily much kinder. “I regret that your reunion with your friend will be postponed by this significant amount of time.” His voice was even and emotionless and still got the message across. It was an art the younger Spock had not yet mastered to this degree. Kirk bit his lip and shut up.

“And I apologize,” his first officer suddenly said, “for invading without permission the mind of your mate. It appeared a necessary action at the time, but I admit that it was ultimately without benefit and therefore inexcusable.”

This time, the ambassador’s expression and voice were dark. “It is Doctor McCoy you need to apologize to, not me.” But at least he was talking to Spock again, which Kirk would have appreciated had his mind not stopped working at the word ‘mate’.

Spock took the reply with an accepting nod of his head. He did not get an opportunity for any apologies that day, though, as the old Vulcan asked them to leave soon after, before McCoy woke from his sleep. He and his friend (mate?) would join them on the Enterprise in a day, leaving enough time to return to the Nelor before the moment in question. Kirk was impatient to leave, thinking of all the things that could go wrong, from engine failure to attacking Klingons, but decided it would be wiser not to complain.

As they made their way back to the air-car that brought them there in the already uncomfortably warm air, Kirk turned to Spock and asked, “His mate?”

 

-

 

The sun was already high in the sky when Leonard awoke. Spock had lowered the temperature inside the house for his convenience; still he looked hot and miserable and still tired when he dragged himself out of bed. It took a cool shower and a hot coffee to bring him to full alertness. Knowing the forced meld was to blame for his state, Spock refrained from making a comment.

Leonard still glared at him as if he had.

While the doctor had his first decent meal in days, Spock told him of the solution he had found.

“At last,” the human sighed. “I can’t wait to go home.”

Spock said nothing.

“Spock?” Leonard asked, sensing his upset even without the aid of a bond. “What is it?”

“Nothing. Yet, while I understand your eagerness to return home, I regret that the time I get to spend with you is so short.” At this point in his own timeline, he would never have admitted this. That him still had a lot of maturing to do.

Leonard hesitated between one bite and another, then lowered his fork onto the plate and Spock knew he would not eat any more this morning. The doctor’s eyes were on the Vulcan, full of confusion and dawning comprehension.

“You’re not coming with me?”

“I will accompany you on the Enterprise. We will part when the times comes for you to return.”

“But… why? Don’t you want to go home? You belong in that universe as much as I do!”

“In that universe, but not in that time,” Spock corrected him softly. “There already is a younger me in it. My place is taken.”

“This is exactly the same time, and there is another Spock here too,” Leonard destroyed the argument. “Also, I’m sure we can find a way to send you to your own time. We have come across so -”

“This is my home now,” Spock interrupted him. He walked around the table until he was standing beside the doctor, took both the cool hands into his. “I have found my place here. Where I came from, there is nothing to return to. And this Spock,” he hurried to add as he saw the sadness in his friend’s eyes, “presents no problem, as he is not the same as me.”

This brought him the change in mood he had been hoping for. “That much is sure. I was just waiting for him to grow a beard.”

Despite his anger with his alternative self, Spock felt the need to defend his young counterpart. “He is loyal to his captain. As I have been.”

“Only his captain is not exactly like our captain.”

“He is more like our Jim than you assume. You need to know, before you can understand his actions in this situation, that he and the McCoy of this universe are lovers. His understandable concern made him act rashly and harsher than necessary on the only available suspect. The captain’s behaviour in this situation has not been admirable, but our own Jim Kirk has been known to act passionately and regret it later.”

Leonard was staring at him; Spock did not know if his final words had even reached him.

“Lovers? Jim and a man? Jim and the other me?” He fell back against the back of the chair heavily. “And that should convince me of their similarities? Have you ever noticed how absurd that is?”

“Not as absurd as you think,” Spock said with a small smile – his first smile this day. “I notice you have not reacted this incredulously when I revealed our own involvement to you.”

“Yeah, but that’s because… Hell, Spock, you have no idea…” He trailed off. Spock leaned in and kissed him.

“Actually, I do,” he said, and kissed him again. Leonard returned the kiss, hesitantly at first, then with growing enthusiasm. All of a sudden, he broke it.

“Damn it, Spock,” he cursed. “I feel like I’m cheating on you. With yourself. And I’m not even with you, and you are you.” He groaned. “Talk about absurd.”

“Indeed,” Spock said, amused. He straightened and walked back to the other end of the table. “To move back to the original topic, I ask you not to judge them too harshly. It was worry that directed them. I might have done the same.”

“You would not.”

“Yes, I would. If I believed you in danger, I might go beyond any moral considerations to ensure your safety.”

“You would not.” Leonard’s voice allowed no contradiction. Spock began to clear away the half-eaten breakfast.

“I have laid out some practical clothes for you in the bedroom. Get dressed. I wish to show you my home.”

 

-

 

The tour of the area took until evening as they refrained from using an air car except once to visit the city. Leonard took in everything he was shown with interest, but at times Spock noted a hint of sadness on his face.

“This is all that is left?” he once asked, when they were on their way back to the car. “The entire Vulcan population in one small city?”

“There are some living outside the city, like me, and some serving on star ships.”

“But basically, this is it?”

“Yes.”

Leonard fell silent after that. He did not offer any consolation, understanding that there was little that could be said to ease the loss of a planet and most of its population.

Spock had not mentioned his mother’s death. He had not mentioned that he was to blame for the hatred that destroyed his world and so many lives.

The Vulcan robes he had provided the human with did not suit him because he was not comfortable wearing them. It would be many years before Leonard would willingly wear clothes like this on certain occasions. Today, he was glad to take them off the moment they arrived at back at Spock’s house.

Spock, too, went to his bedroom to shed some of the multiple layers of cloth he was wearing. Eventually he sank to his bed with a sigh to take off his boots.

Leonard watched him with the well-known attention. “You’re tired,” he observed.

“I am.” Spock admitted.

“I thought Vulcans could go without sleep for days.”

“Young Vulcans, Leonard. I am very old.”

“Of course,” Leonard muttered. It was indeed difficult to overlook.

To Spock’s surprise, the human sat down beside him and with and arm around his shoulder pulled him close until they were half lying on the bed. As Spock allowed himself to relax and rest his head on the other’s lap, he was overcome by the memory of the last time they had been this close: that day, Leonard had been the old one, so frail he was almost insubstantial, and it had been Spock who held him in his arms, knowing very well that there would be no other time.

Now Leonard was holding him and it was the last time as well. In ten hours they would leave on the Enterprise. In twenty-five hours, Leonard would leave this universe. They would not meet again.

“We must all be long dead,” Leonard said softly, as if he had been reading Spock’s mind. But no – there was not enough of a bond between them under these circumstances. It was merely a coincidence. “Jim and me and all the others.”

“You are,” Spock confirmed. “For many years I have been the only one left.”

“Did you move on?”

“Yes.”

Spock could feel Leonard nod thoughtfully. “Good.”

Silence lingered between them for a long moment; it was not an uncomfortable silence. After a while Spock became aware what it was Leonard might be thinking.

“This place here,” he began, “this time and these people, they are not my moving on. I did not replace you.”

“I didn’t assume that, Spock.”

“Were you not?”

Spock looked up and Leonard met his gaze solemnly. He sighed. “If you chose this place over going back to your own world and time, it must give you something, even if you’re not gallivanting around space and saving the universe. I just don’t feel good about leaving you behind.”

They had not turned on the light. As the room darkened with the setting sun, Spock took the human’s hand. “It does give me something: it gives me purpose. I am needed here. I have been needed before I came to this place, and I have not been without friends between your passing and the time I was stranded here, but now this is my home and my purpose, and I will not abandon it. Our counterparts do are not a significant factor in this. We rarely meet.” He did not mention that at times seeing these people who were his friends he had lost in another life made this in fact the harder place to bear. He wondered if he should mention that his life had moved on but never been the same, or that he had never taken another partner to share it with. Ultimately, he decided against it.

“We should sleep,” he said. “There will be no other chance before we reach our destination tomorrow evening.” This moment was precious. Spock did not want to waste it sleeping, knowing it would never come again. But his body demanded its right, and Leonard’s body fit warm and familiar against his. Together they drifted off to sleep.

 

-

 

The ambassador and his guest beamed up to the Enterprise not a minute after the appointed time, but not a minute before either. Kirk, who was used to both Spocks being generally the first to arrive anywhere, had been getting a little nervous when the minutes passed without a word from the planet, and then he got a little more nervous, and in the end he couldn’t even complain, because they were, after all, still perfectly on time.

So he didn’t complain. Instead, he made use of the opportunity to apologize to the old Spock’s McCoy for the rather unfriendly welcome to this universe. McCoy accepted with surprisingly good grace and even a hint of humour, half-covered by sarcastic remarks. Kirk could actually see Bones in him now, once he was willing to look for him. Naturally, he still wanted to get his Bones back as soon as possible. The part of him that had learned a lesson by going through all kind of shit in his life wouldn’t be able to believe his lover had made it through this adventure alive and unharmed before he saw it with his own eyes.

His science officer, he couldn’t help but notice, remained in the back, never approaching the two for the apology the ambassador suggested he’d give. The old Spock didn’t seem to mind, though, and McCoy only had a wary look for him before they excused themselves and disappeared in the direction of the guest quarters Spock usually inhabited whenever he was on this ship.

Kirk knew not too much about the mind melding business they all seemed to have such issues with. The old Spock had once melded with him. His Spock had melded with him once or twice and he hadn’t found it unpleasant at all, but then it had been fully consensual and not a means of interrogation.

Spock had been not very forthcoming when Kirk had asked him about it, and the captain had been too distracted by the mate thing to really insist on an answer.

Spock and Bones. What an absurd combination.

Kirk left them to their privacy, returned to the bridge and made sure they were travelling back to the Nelor as quickly as possible. He expected their guests to stay in their rooms and do whatever mate-y (mating?) things they felt like doing in their remaining time together, so he was surprised when two hours later he happened to meet them on the way to engineering, talking animatedly about the differences between this Enterprise and theirs.

Apparently, Spock was giving McCoy a tour of the ship.

The captain watched them from a distance as the slowly walked closer, apparently oblivious to his presence. He was fascinated by the easy intimacy between them, expressed in casual touches and a way of talking to each other that suggested long familiarity and knowing exactly how far they could go with the other. Kirk’s Spock had explained that it was obvious from the way the ambassador acted with and concerning the doctor that a deeper connection existed between them, but Kirk, not being a Vulcan and perhaps being a little bit biased against the idea, couldn’t see it. What he saw was a deep friendship: two men who knew the one another well enough to be perfectly comfortable around each other, even when they were fighting. To him, that was strange enough to watch. While his Bones and Spock respected each other and had formed something resembling friendship over the years, they never were this at ease. In the end it was Kirk who connected them. Without him, they probably wouldn’t even talk to each other.

To see a pair of them being perfectly happy without him was slightly disconcerting, he had to admit to himself. Watching them, he couldn’t help but wonder how his own counterpart fitted in there.

From his meld with the old Spock, Kirk knew that he and the other Kirk had been very close. Very, very close. So perhaps he should rather wonder how McCoy fit into that. Perhaps McCoy was Spock’s lover and Kirk his friend and McCoy didn’t have anything to do with Kirk at all.

The captain became aware how little he actually knew about that other universe. So far he had always assumed that it was pretty much like this one, just with more Vulcans.

“One question,” Kirk heard McCoy ask Spock as they came closer, “given you can answer it without causing temporal chaos.”

“I shall answer it to the best of my being bale to.” Spock seemed vaguely amused by the choice of words.

“The Nelorians,” McCoy began, and at the same time Spock raised an eyebrow in that creepily familiar way. “They are completely harmless, aren’t they?!

“Yes.” Spock nodded, apparently of the opinion that this information did not threaten the existence of the future. “They are merely passing through our galaxy on their journey. It was their politeness that made them announce their presence in the first place and ask what they thought was the dominant species for permission to trespass. Had they not done so, we might never have realised they were thereat all. As you saw yourself, their non-verbal language makes communication difficult, but those difficulties have been overcome. By the time you return, they will be ready to continue their journey.”

The Nelorians of his universe certainly weren’t ready to go anywhere, with half a dozen heavily armed Federation ships surrounding them. But then, there was no guarantee that the Nelorians of this universe were as benevolent as the ones Spock remembered.

“So no one on our Enterprise blames them for what happened?” McCoy asked.

“No. Having had some experience with interdimensional travel before, we knew what to look for from the beginning.”

Kirk wondered if he was just being excused for overreacting. They had precious little experience with interdimensional travel, after all.

“In two point seven hours from now, my younger self will figure out the solution to this problem,” Spock continued. “In two point nine hours, they will reverse the switch by sending the other Doctor McCoy to the Nelor and beam him back to the Enterprise from the exact same coordinates as when the interference occurred.”

“Ah.” McCoy nodded in understanding. “That would be the specific moment you have been talking about.”

“Indeed.”

“What would happen if I did not beam over at the same moment he is?”

“Nothing at all. He would safely arrive at the Enterprise, still in the wrong universe.”

“The point remains that we only get back were we belong because you remember when to do what. It happens because it happened already.” The concept appeared to irritate him.

Spock’s only reply was a smile that looked ever so slightly smug.

“I have to admit,” he said, “that I was not certain reversing the switch would be the best thing to do. After all, this was a good opportunity to keep a capable surgeon while getting rid of you.”

McCoy snorted. “If you want to, I can ask your younger self if he’s willing to switch with this Spock. Like that, everyone would be happy.”

“Temporal balance forbids it,” Spock said with some regret.

“Of course, Spock.”

“In any case, in the end I came to the conclusion that your return was important to certain members of the crew and was preferable to things remaining the way they were.”

“Certain members of the crew, Spock? I never knew you could be so romantic.”

“I was talking primarily of the captain,” Spock corrected his assumption. “He clearly preferred the Leonard McCoy he was used to, though I can think of no other reason for it than the fact that the other one isn’t nearly as scrawny, and also a good bit taller.”

McCoy suddenly beamed. “He felt like his manliness was being threatened?” he asked with a gleeful grin. “Of all the things you just said, this is the one I can believe in a heartbeat.” He turned his attention from Spock to Kirk, as if he had only just noticed his presence. “”Hello, Captain! Fancy meeting you here,” he greeted him and bounced on the balls of his feet, still grinning.

Kirk failed to resist the urge to roll his eyes.

 

-

 

Nearly two point nine hours later, Ambassador Spock watched the lover of his past and future stand on the transporter platform, ready and eager to be beamed back home. Leonard did not say anything, but his eyes were on Spock, never straying to look at anyone else until the transporter beam took him away and shortly after replaced his narrow shape with the taller, stronger from of another Doctor McCoy, lover of James Kirk and quite ready to be welcomed home. Spock’s face remained blank. He left as soon as the process of transportation was complete.

“I don’t like this,” Leonard had whispered when they had parted not a minute ago, and Spock had replied, “I know,” and kissed him in front of everyone present.

There had been no farewell. Leonard would see him again, young and ignorant of all to come, unwilling to admit how much the doctor’s absence had troubled him yet willing, eventually, to explore the future with the human he had so unexpectedly chosen. Spock had said goodbye a long time ago.

 

April 22, 2010

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the final challenge of the ship war run by [st-respect](http://st-respect.livejournal.com/) in 2010. The prompt was "Love".


End file.
